


The Day The Music Died

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Pining, Rebellion, Slow Burn, dystopian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's 2023, and the entire planet is in disarray. Dan and Phil are separated in a raid, and Dan flees to the London sewers, where millions have taken refuge in an all out war against 'undesirables'.  All Dan wants is to find Phil - alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a few months, and it has taken me forever to write just a few chapters.

Almost a year after the Interactive Introverts tour ended, the world started falling apart. 

When the ‘future’ finally began to look promising, a global rebellion – secretly in the works since the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center - exploded, and it started with the internet.  Come to find out, the internet, which was originally designed to weed out undesirables, unfortunately turned rogue.

Between the beginning of Porn Hub, then the birth of the dark web, unfathomably advanced hacking and illegal virtual currency, the world wide web evolved into a cunning intelligence which had taken on the brain activity of a super genius chemist (it is speculated that he was smarter than Albert Einstein) in southern Mexico after a microchip had been implanted by Russian mafia. 

The Russians were hellbent on destroying the western world by sabotaging the economy and medical advances of any kind, and once the chemist’s brain had been downloaded into a computer, all internet activity was infiltrated, including military intelligence.  The NSA was brought to its knees and forced to hand over government secrets.

Most web sites were shut down, the first of which were porn and anything remotely questionable in the eyes of new global law.  Even the dark web was aggressively tracked and destroyed.  The next order of business were banks and the medical industry.  ALL went offline immediately.

Billions of business and personal computers were seized and replaced by new, government issued devices, run on a completely new system.  Other major networks were shut down, and people were arrested for anything illegal according to the uprising. 

What is the uprising?  A group of elites who delegate more groups to put a stop to anything that violates new laws, and repeal recent laws that never should have existed.

Following the world wide ‘cease and desist’, a giant corporation – whose name nobody knows, because they’re so secret – set up their own separate underground network to track people in their everyday lives.  No one knows where their cameras are, or when you’ll be caught ordering the wrong thing online.  And if you think you could just walk to some shady abandoned house, where you could find some illegal drugs … well, those are mostly burned to the ground.

For three solid years, squads were sent en masse to destroy and remove anything abandoned, and restore what was considered salvageable for future government use – usually recruit and training centers.

It is now 2023.  No country has its own leader.  There are currently thirteen world leaders who are constantly on the move, holding secret meetings and making new laws every day, in attempt to create ‘the perfect world’.   But it is far from that.

It is a dystopian disaster.  Practically the dark ages all over again.

But it isn’t as horrifying for some, as it is for those who were not so accepted in decades past.  For many, the transition was virtually painless.  A few new routines took little time getting used to.  It was as if there was a minor shift in their lifestyles.  Life went on for them.

However, millions (those who didn’t commit suicide) took to the underground sewers, hiding and scrounging for food and anything that could be used for alternative communication.  Sometimes they steal food from people’s homes in the middle of the night.  Small teams are often sent to old garbage dumps in search of clothes, where many new and suddenly unapproved items were sadly discarded when small businesses were shut down.

Whenever these poor people emerge from the underground, they are referred to as ‘the others’.  Undesirables.  And if they are caught without proof of proper residence and employment, or proof of schooling, they are arrested on the spot, and sent to jail without trial.

That’s right.  Civil rights don’t exist anymore.  No more guns.  No more voting.  No more freedom of speech.  The ‘old world’ was taking advantage.  Basic rights turned into unreasonable demands.  The uprising didn’t like that, and they were determined to begin with those they considered ‘entitled’, cleaning up our planet for the sake of preserving humankind.

Prisons are grossly overcrowded, and any remaining hard criminals (those left who haven’t already been sentenced to death) currently occupy remote islands, where swimming to anything nearby would result in either a shark attack, starvation, or exhaustion.  Some prisons are left unattended, where criminals starve and die at their own hands and mouths.  A grizzly horror, indeed. 

The only thing left of the original internet is a skeleton of elite businesses, virtual health care workers who are required by law to report anything non-compliant or ‘of concern’ to the authorities, and lawmakers.  After the Mexican chemist was found and assassinated by unknown insurgents, martial law was declared for a brief time until the Russian spies were found, and a specialist from Norad was taken from retirement to fix things.

As the new way of life unfolded, many of the finer things – most overseas travel, specialty dining (no more eating exotic animals), etc., have been banned.  Even entertainment is closely monitored for subliminal corruption.    

Food is either home grown, or purchased online from warehouses, and clothes are custom made in other warehouses, where common criminals (small time thieves, truant juveniles, and the likes) work to fulfill orders.  Gouging and personal profiteering no longer exists, and business as usual consists of working for your food, clothes, basic education, and the roof over your head – kind of like the old days, with a few more restrictions.

The only wealthy people walk among the elite, and a few who are routinely screened for trading of goods.  Said trading keeps the world dollar fixed, so that honest and hardworking citizens can afford homes and education.  No single economy is better off than the other.

Average adult citizens have jobs assisting medical teams in hospitals, stocking and organizing warehouses, teaching (with a government official in every classroom, of course), and working in government factories.  Some small businesses still exist.  But those are few and far between, and are run by carefully selected elders.  The ‘others’ refer to them as ‘the morals’.

It is rare to see an ‘other’ walking into a coffee shop run by a 50+ moral.  Not only because they run the risk of being arrested, but because they often are refused service, unless they provide proof of who they are.  Especially if their attire is questionable.  Once in a while, an ‘other’ slips through the cracks unnoticed.

Given the current way of life, if that’s what you call it, most of the ‘others’ are people like former celebrities, drug dealers who escaped their eventual arrest and demise, almost all scientists, those without religion, and former leaders.  The uprising mostly consists of philosophers, clairvoyants, spiritual healers, and advanced herbalists.

The world is grossly overpopulated.  And in the eyes of the uprising, if a citizen isn’t properly caring for themselves, nature should and will take due course.  Health care was literally sucking the life out people, making things a lot worse than it should be.  What better way to eliminate that problem than to eliminate health insurance and expensive procedures and medicines?  It is too costly to keep people on life support.  And chemo therapy was eventually proven to be ineffective 90% of the time.

Then there are the rare individuals who have an uncanny ability to heal with love, art, or music – most of whom are hunted by the elite.  It is feared and considered evil.  But how is love a sin?  You can’t help who you love.  And what about those who are dedicated to music, and don’t have a life partner?  Self-love in its most true form is one of the worst sins punishable by a lifetime of service to certain elites.  And it isn’t pleasant.

But twice a year, approved musicians stream an online concert, viewed only on government issued smart televisions, which are still extensively monitored for any hacking activity.  Smartphones are extinct, and most communication has returned to analog and other traditional methods, such as the postal service, where all letters and packages are opened and subject to military inspection. 

As they did in the past within other elite organizations, unspeakably dark things happen within the uprising and among the elite.  Much like what many imagine happened within the Vatican and among the Illuminati.  But instead of pleasure, sometimes things took place in the form of punishment, which is just as horrific. 

If an ‘other’ were to be caught outside the underground, they would much rather spend their punishment on an island with those on death row, than serve the rest of their lives enduring atrocities at the hands of a corrupt moral.


	2. Chapter 2

During a raid of their apartment complex, Dan and Phil got separated.

Months later, Dan is an aspiring member of an underground musical movement, while Phil, who was captured by the uprising, currently works for central intelligence in California.  His crime: trying to hide Dan from being arrested and sentenced a lifetime of ‘service’.  Dan’s crime: hacking his way into the new internet to upload his controversial music.  Luckily, Dan escaped during an all-out brawl between Phil and the authorities.  To this day, he still cries at night, wondering what Phil’s punishment was, and where he was.

When people first fled to the sewers, Dan had spent at least two weeks simply surviving – alone.  Nobody would help him, and he risked his life each day when he emerged in search of food.  Luckily, he found a nearby house (before it was burned to the ground), and loaded up three of his spare Dan and Phil backpacks.  He was set for at least two weeks - as long as he rationed. 

In any times of trouble, past and present, music has always been Dan’s outlet.  Specifically, playing the piano.  Over the years, he has secretly composed short pieces – unbeknownst to Phil - and has most recently put lyrics to some of his works, in hopes of reaching out to misguided morals.  Even more recently, and secretly, he has written a song for Phil.  He prays to whatever powers are at work for his safety, and to someday reunite with his best friend. 

Before things got bad, Dan and Phil were best friends.  They lived together for many years, collaborating with other YouTubers, supporting each other, and living a life many young people dreamed of.  Younger audiences counted on them for their humor and relatability. 

They had a small circle of friends, some of who they’ve known since their university days, and well afterwards.  They all trusted each other.  But Dan and Phil, well, they had a special relationship. 

While the world assumed them to be more than best friends, they really were just that.  Even if they both secretly pined for each other, it just wasn’t worth the risk entering such a relationship, let alone go public with it.  And given the current circumstances, thankfully they never did!

One night, during a late-night rendezvous with a piano at an abandoned school – still on the list to be renovated – he ran into PJ, quite by accident.  It nearly gave him a heart attack, because as he was entering the building, there was the unmistakable click of a gun, ready to be fired, and close to the back of his head.

“Turn around, asshole.  SLOWLY, so I can see your face before I blow your fucking brains out” a familiar voice resonated in Dan’s ears.  And as the color instantly drained from his face, he dropped his smaller backpack (which contained a bottle of water and a can of beans), and slowly turned around, nearly pissing himself.

“PEEEEJ!” Dan screamed, throwing his arms around his other best friend.  Dropping the small hand pistol like a hot potato, PJ literally cried out, tightly embracing Dan, shushing the sobs wracking his body.  “OH MY GOD.  DAN!  Shhhh Shhh.  I got ya.  Ssshhh” PJ held on for dear life.  “My good friend…. Thank God you’re okay.”

As Dan sobbed for another five or ten minutes, PJ did his best to keep him as quiet as possible.  It wouldn’t be long before the nightly raid took place, and they couldn’t take the chance of being heard.  After all, they’ve made it this far.  And what the hell was Dan doing in an abandoned school???

As the lights from helicopters scanned the immediate area, Dan and PJ huddled in a supply closet until the coast was clear.  “Might I ask the same of you?  And with a … a GUN?” Dan whispered, still tightly clinging to PJ.  PJ put a finger to Dan’s lips, shushing him until the helicopters left. 

Once he was certain it was safe, PJ slowly opened the door to the closet, quickly scanning the area for any morals.  “Come on” he motioned for Dan, who was still shaken over the fact that it could’ve been a moral who put a gun to his head.  “Where the fuck did you get a gun?” Dan looked shocked as PJ checked the rounds before putting the safety back on.

“There was a guy dead in the gutter, beaten to death for his money.  But whoever killed him missed the fact that there was a weapon tucked in the back of his trousers.  Thank God.  I can’t tell you how often this baby saved my ass.  Especially when a moral came after my ass one night” PJ explained as he tucked the pistol into the back of his own ratty jeans.

Dan took quick assessment, and guessed that PJ hadn’t showered in a couple of weeks, and possibly hadn’t eaten in days.  His hair was graying prematurely, and he was at least 15 pounds lighter.  PJ was a skinny bloke to begin with, and it saddened Dan to see him so malnourished.

“I’ve got something for you” he said, reaching for his backpack.  PJ squatted with him to see what he was hiding in the obnoxious bag.  “Dan and Phil merch?  REALLY?” PJ chuckled, fondly reminiscing the good old days.  He briefly wondered if he should ask where Phil is. 

“Shut up” Dan playfully shoved at PJ’s arm as he handed over a can of beans, finding some spare applesauce at the bottom.  Dan hadn’t had applesauce in a couple of months.  He was thankful the stuff keeps a good while.  Otherwise he hated to toss food.  “It’s all I have left of Phil, other than a few pictures and one of his hoodies” Dan answered.  Tears briefly pricked the corners of his eyes as the memory of Phil being taken into custody flashed in his mind.

“Hey” PJ reached for his friend’s hand, giving it a light squeeze.  He misses Phil too.  “You know, somehow, through all of this horror, I have faith that he’s still alive.  Phil has never done anything serious.  He’s probably serving a couple of years in minimum security somewhere.” PJ did his best to convince a tearful Dan.

But Dan simply shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I’ve done a lot of asking and showing his picture to hundreds of people.  I’ve been back and forth from one end of London to the other.  I even chanced going back to Manchester.  Nobody knows anything.  Not even any of the rogue morals who did a lot of the arrests.  Nada” Dan sniffed, choking back any further tears.

“Besides, the fucker that arrested him shouted ‘LIFE!’ when they hauled him away.  Not that it’s up to them, because the moral high council decides a criminal’s fate.” Dan added, fidgeting with the zip on the backpack as he debated whether to eat the old applesauce.

“It looks fine” PJ looked at the color, and opened it for Dan, who quickly sucked down the equivalent of a child sized serving.  But it was better than no applesauce, and heaven knows every single other is so malnourished by now that they’re severely deficient.  Dan’s gums were beginning to feel very unhealthy, and he worries about his teeth constantly, of all stupid things.

“Don’t you give up on Phil.  He needs you.  And I’m sure wherever he is, he thinks of you every second of every single day” PJ nearly got in Dan’s face.  How could Dan think like that?  After a few seconds, Dan broke again, but louder this time.

PJ felt horrible.  He can see that Dan has lost a bit of weight himself, and judging the dark circles, he hasn’t slept in days.  “Hey” PJ put an arm around him.  “Sorry, mate.  I just don’t want you to give up.  If you lose hope in the one thing that ever mattered to you, what point is there in even trying to survive this mess?” he implored Dan.

“What do you mean?” Dan sniffed, wiping the tears on Phil’s hoodie sleeve.  “I think you know what I mean” PJ’s eyes locked with Dan’s.  “Come on, Dan.  It’s obvious.  It has been since day one.  Phil adores you, and he put you so high up on a pedestal that you were too terrified to take that leap – into his arms” PJ grinned at the sneaky brilliance of those last few words.  And a small victory washed through him when Dan finally smiled enough to reveal his trademark dimple.

But Dan insisted on playing coy.  “Yeah, right” Dan snorted.  “Really Dan?” PJ crossed his arms, taking a long drink from the bottle of water Dan offered him.  “Okay, okay.  But it’s too late now.  He’s probably somewhere on the other side of the world!” Dan whimpered at the thought of his best friend being thousands of miles away.

“Hey” PJ reached for Dan’s hand again.  “No distance is too far.  There’s always some day.  And where there’s a will, there’s a fucking way.  Do you hear me?  We will find a way to get you and Phil reunited.  It may not be tomorrow, or next month, but I swear on my life, I will make sure of it” PJ kicked out at some nearby garbage in frustration.

“But where do we start?” Dan felt another lump tightening in his throat.  “Don’t you start that shit again, or so help me” PJ threatened.  “Look” he breathed in and out a few times.  He understands Dan, because he lost Chris in the middle of all the initial chaos.  So, he’s determined for everyone to be reunited.  Even if it means taking a few morals hostage.

“You leave that to me.  I’ve got a few people.  But you need to promise me you’ll keep your shit together.  If not for me, do it for Phil.  I guarantee he cries just as much as you do” he urged Dan back into the closet when he heard some jeeps coming from down the street.  And even though it’s impossibly dark in the creepy closet, PJ can hear and feel Dan nod.  “Okay” he whispered, waiting for the jeeps to pass.


	3. Chapter 3

As they made their way back into a part of the sewer that wasn’t as populated, PJ gave Dan the third degree, wondering how the hell he made it for as long as he has without any support from people he knows.  Dan has never been the type to just socialize.  He had always imagined Dan huddled in a corner, shivering until he starved or froze to death.

“And why were you at that school?” PJ finally asked.  Since PJ knew the school was marked for future renovation, he figured it would be okay to escape the sewers on odd nights for a safer night of sleep.  Only once had he encountered a situation, and that’s when he had no choice but to use the gun – something he vowed never to do again if he could help it.  He’s just not the violent type, and quite frankly, he still has nightmares about that horrible night.

“Well” Dan began as he hoisted a well-hidden man hole cover for them to get in before the sun rose.  “I’m listening” PJ helped him replace it so that it was secure.  He made a mental note of the location, and followed Dan to his secret hideout. 

“I’ve been using the piano” Dan blushed at his pathetic admission.  PJ simply beamed, and Dan can’t remember the last time he saw such a great smile.  It gave him great relief that he was reunited with PJ.

“No shit!  We must’ve been just missing each other.  I’ve been taking naps there on random nights.  Nothing routine, you know?  Can’t let anyone think there’s vagrants living there.  It’s dry and warm with a few secret passages” he explained as he watched Dan prepare a small meal for them. 

“It hasn’t been long.  It’s only until I can find parts for that one” he pointed at a full sized electric keyboard.  PJ was stunned, wondering how the hell Dan acquired it.  “Dare I ask?” he glanced at Dan, sniffing his peanut butter sandwich.  “Dump” Dan tucked in, recalling that night.

He was alone in his quest to find Phil, when he encountered a giant garbage dump.  It was well before teams of others started showing up, and Dan made off with a sizeable haul of random items.  As PJ stared at a pile of junk – useful junk – he wondered if Dan had seen any electronics that might be of use to him.

“I know what you’re thinking.  And no, I haven’t kept anything extra that doesn’t suit my needs” Dan mumbled through slow chewing.  Years ago, in one of thousands of random articles he read online, he learned that slower extended chewing led to less hunger for longer periods of time.

When PJ slumped, Dan quipped up.  “BUT, I did happen to see a lot of old smartphones in one particular dump.  There’s a lot of shit in that place, and I’m willing to bet whatever you’re up to, you’d find everything you need” Dan grinned at his old friend.  And the wheels started turning.

“You know, between my project and yours, I’d bet my life we can find Phil and Chris.” PJ sighed as he eyed Dan’s bedding.  “Where’d you find those?” PJ pointed at a large stack of handmade blankets.  He envisioned some old lady from 20 years ago, sitting in a rocking chair, knitting her fingers off, and he chuckled.  They looked warm.

“The dump.  Like I said, there’s a lot of shit there.  But it’s a matter of when to go.  Just a week ago, the place was crawling with authorities.  They even brought in a chopper to haul out furniture which was accidentally taken from a secret member of the uprising.”  PJ’s eyes went wide.  _There’s furniture?_

“Yes, there’s furniture” Dan said, knowingly.  “And before you go and bite off more than you can chew, we really should devise some sort of plan.  And we need to start with food.  I don’t have much for myself.  If you’re going to be here, then we need to get more.  Maybe even find ourselves some basic furniture.  I hate sleeping on the ground” Dan groaned, rubbing at his sore back.

“Dan” PJ urged.  “Have you made ANY friends down here?” PJ feared the worst.  In the same token, he hoped that Dan hadn’t because Heaven forbid he told anyone _anything_.  You can’t trust anyone.  Thankfully, Dan shook his head.  PJ sighed and placed his hands onto Dan’s shoulders. “We need to completely regroup” PJ said, mentally preparing for a long road ahead.  Dan nodded in agreement.

“The first thing we need is more food and other supplies” PJ added just as he spotted an empty Ribena bottle.  “Where’d you get THAT?” his eyes went wide.  He immediately felt extreme thirst, and kicked himself for not bringing anything from the school.  Blushing, Dan reached between the blankets for an unopened bottle, tossing it to PJ.  “You didn’t” PJ cocked his head as he opened it.  Dan simply shrugged.  “Gotta survive, y’know” Dan replied.

“You’ve been surviving on this crap?” PJ downed the entire bottle in less than a minute.  Again, all Dan seems to do is shrug.  His mind is obviously on Phil, and he can’t be bothered to think about much else, other than devising a plan to someday reunite.  “It’s fine” Dan said.

“No.  You’re clearly wasting away.  How are your teeth?” PJ reached to pull Dan’s lower lip down.  As he suspected, Dan’s gums are red and inflamed, and it looks like he has a few cavities.  “You can’t go on like this.  First thing tomorrow, we’re going to a pharmacy.  You need vitamin C, among other things” PJ sounded worried for his friend’s fragile health.

“Easier said than done” Dan sighed.  “The nearest one is crawling with authorities in the area.  If it’s even suspected that we don’t belong, we’re done for” Dan shivered, recalling a close call he had when he went for water and Ribena.  His attire wasn’t as meticulous as most moral patrons, and it earned him a few questioning glances.  He recalls barely pulling “Trouble at the dry cleaners.  It’s all I have at the moment” out of his ass.

“Jesus CHRIST, Dan.  You need to be more careful!” PJ hissed when Dan gave him a full rundown of that afternoon.  “I know” he sighed, shuffling some of his blankets around to evaluate his small stock of medical supplies.  He had a half empty box of bandages, two bottles of antiseptic, a small bottle of ibuprofen, and some lube.  He really needed toilet paper, for fuck sake.  He’s tired of ripping clothes to shreds every time he needs to shit.

“REALLY?” PJ kicked him.  Dan blushed profusely as he quickly tucked the lube back into the blankets.  “Shut up!” Dan hissed with embarrassment.  “If you were all alone for weeks, what else is there to do to help you fall asleep?  HMMM???” Dan kicked back, still blushing.  “You’ve got a point” PJ admitted.

“Look, will you be alright another night if I head out?  I’ve got a few guys who might have a lead on some supplies.  But first, we need to decide if this is really where we’re going to stay, because to be honest, you’re not deep enough” PJ was rattling.  “Excuse me?” Dan blinked a few times, confused over the deep comment.

“We need to be further underground than this.  Even though you’re secluded, it’s too close to the top, and we can’t chance being found.  Especially if we want to have any hot food.  We can’t be sending up smoke signals, right?” PJ put his hands out, palms out to make his point.  “Right then” Dan agreed, mentally beating himself for being so careless.

“You’ve been fine, well, for the most part.  What’s one more night?  I promise I won’t be long.  These guys are just a few kilometers west, close to the shore.  I need direction if we’re going to put any kind of plan in motion, okay?” PJ continued to talk sense into a panicking Dan.  He knows Dan hates being alone, so he wrapped reassuring arms around his old friend. 

“I promise” PJ insisted, and Dan finally relaxed.  Dan really missed Phil, and more than anything, he just wants to know if Phil is okay.  Reuniting is a pipe dream, and he’ll settle for any news of his well being.  Now that PJ is here, everything will be alright …


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for such a long wait for this chapter. I've had to tie up some deadlines.

Ever since his arrest, Phil has been worried sick about Dan, wondering if he’s still alive, and if he is he wonders how Dan is surviving.  Did he also get arrested that horrible fateful night?  If not, where is he?  Is he healthy?  Of course he isn’t, because anyone who escaped arrest most likely fled to the underground sewers, to live with the rats.

Phil is currently asleep, in dreamland, where he and Dan were laughing and playing their videos games back in their old flat, drinking Ribena and eating pizza.  They were having a grand old time, until Phil heard shouting in the distance.

“Get up” a rough voice made Dan frown in Phil’s dream.  “Get up” he heard it again.  It’s getting louder and closer.  The voice is familiar, but Phil can’t place who it is.  “Get up, sinner!”  And then Phil remembered.  He almost cried at the realization and memory of where he is and what his current position is.

When Phil was arrested by a secret member of the uprising, the bastard who handcuffed him shouted “LIFE!” at him, and tossed him in a black van with no windows.  There were others in the van, tied and gagged.  Luckily for Phil, they ran out of gags.  He remembers glaring back at a lot of fearful eyes.

But when he arrived at an outpost, someone familiar took pity on Phil, and put him on a private flight to America, where a small group of morals needed extra hands building and helping with the upkeep of their compound.

“You’re Amazing Phil, eh?” John asked.  John is the owner of the complex, and the leader of group.  Phil didn’t dare speak a word.  He could only blink twice for his yes.  He was too scared to even nod.  For all he knew, they would punish him in ways unimaginable for no reason.  Contrary to belief, he and Dan were never a ‘gay couple’.  Not even in secret.  They really are just best friends.

However, both secretly had feelings for each other.  It was just decided from the start that it was best to keep those locked away.  Both for the sake of their friendship, and their YouTube careers.  Google had protocols, and they didn’t want to chance hurting their families.  Not to mention what would’ve happened _had_ they been in a relationship.  They’d both be locked away for sure!

But sometimes Phil would rather be locked away with Dan – if Dan is in jail – than suffer being away from him, as a slave to a bunch of morals.  And he nearly starts crying when he is poked awake once more.  He misses Dan terribly.

“I’m awake” Phil sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before reaching for his glasses.  The floor where he sleeps is cold, and he needs new clothes.  But this is his punishment, and he must make the best of it, no matter how horrible things are for him.

As he sets about his daily duties, he notices a younger moral secretly glancing at him.  He quickly scans the boy’s face, and remembers who he is.  Thankfully, he isn’t caught looking back, because he would for sure be whipped.  Phil shivers at the thought.  He was whipped once when he first arrived.  One lash for every time he denied the ‘gay’ accusations, and one lash for each year he ‘lived in sin’ with Dan.

Phil had quickly learned to agree to the false accusations.  Now, his back and legs have 18 scars.  But they’re fading with time, and he prays to the gods if he ever reunites with Dan someday, that Dan won’t lose his shit when he sees them.  Phil quivers at the brief thought, shakes it off, and continues his dailies, in silence – with Dan in his thoughts, as always.  Thoughts of Dan and easier times are the only things which get him through each miserable day.

Compared to other moral groups, Phil lucked out, and was placed with one no so harsh.  Mind you he still endures nightly questions and is forced to pray to a god he isn’t sure exists.  But at least he isn’t locked in a cage.  Sometimes he’s grateful he even has a mattress and a blanket on the basement floor. 

When Phil first arrived at the compound, he would overhear stories about huge groups of homosexuals who were captured and sent to special prisons where they were tortured every single day.  Phil couldn’t wrap his head around it.  He would argue in his own mind about how America was the land of the free.  How could something like that be allowed?

But it was no use asking ‘why’ or ‘how’.  The entire planet has been taken over by what Phil considers a worse evil than the evil he has been accused of.  It’s called hatred and self-righteousness.  Aren’t those actual sins, according to the bible?  Aren’t Christians supposed to leave judgement up to their ‘God’, on judgement day?

Phil sometimes wishes he could understand.  Other times, he just wishes he could be with his best friend again.  _Some day_ he silently chants in his head, focusing on that hope to get him through each day.  _Some day_ he repeats, fighting any thoughts which might bring tears to his eyes.

There have been times where he has had to stop thinking about Dan.  The one time he was caught smiling was when he was doing his dailies, a fun memory had randomly popped into Phil’s head.  He could almost hear Dan’s laughter.  It provided a moment of joy and hope for Phil.

It was brief, though.  And when someone saw him, he got the third degree, and Phil had to lie, telling John how he had a memory of Martyn, his brother.  Only after checking with authorities did John believe Phil.  But Phil was still punished.  He remembers waking up starving the next morning.  What little food he is allowed, he is certain isn't enough, and he fears he might wither away to skin and bones before he ever sees Dan again.  When he's denied a meal, it's the absolute worst, and Phil nearly faints because it makes him weak.  

That’s another problem.  Phil really misses his family.  He was accustomed to seeing them once a month.  He and Dan would take extended weekends to make plans with them.  Martyn and Cornelia would even meet up, and they’d all go on some really great adventures.  Hiking, camping, and barbecues in the woods were the best.  So were platonic cuddles with Dan in an oversized sleeping bag in front of a campfire.  So were roasted marshmallows.  He misses food, almost as much as he misses Dan and his family.

But Phil can’t think about the past.  He must focus on the future, and keep hoping beyond any other hope that Dan is alright, and that they’ll somehow reunite.  He has lost count how many times those two thoughts occur in his mind.  But it keeps his will to survive intact.  It’s the only thing.    


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, leading up to another short one about Phil.

Two weeks after Dan and PJ’s first encounter, PJ had a possible lead on where Phil might be, but they need to move further from the city, where there is more intel.  But Dan, the cynic that he is, didn’t believe anyone would truly be willing to help.  “Dan, these guys have gotten me out of some tight situations.  They even saved my life once.  Give them a chance, yeah?  Trust me” PJ urged one night, making a mental list of what to take when they make their move.

“But what about all my stuff?  I’ve been working so hard on this keyboard.  I really miss playing” Dan whined, running his fingers back and forth along the dusty keys.  He hasn’t cleaned it in some time.  He has been waiting to get the final part so he can play again.

“I’ll tell you what.  What would you say if I could get you a large tablet?  You wouldn’t believe some of the things these guys dig up from the bigger landfills.  It’s almost criminal” PJ privately laughed at his own pun.  He knows all the old electronics were confiscated and trashed.  But many of them miraculously survived, and quite a few others possess one.  The problem is, they’re pretty much useless unless you’re in proximity of a signal.   It would be perfect for Dan, though.  He can compose to his heart's content, and if he can snag a recording app, he's all set for any material he has been working on so far.

Dan considered the idea, and sighed.  What few possessions he has scraped together, he knows he’ll have to leave behind – with the exception of two original sets of Beats he scarfed up in the first weeks following Phil’s arrest.  But Phil is more important than possessions, and he sighs again at the thought of Phil.  “Alright” he agrees to PJ’s plan. 

After a few quiet moments, PJ begins grabbing things to put in a couple of large backpacks he acquired while he was away from Dan.  “So” Dan carefully considered the inevitable.  “When will we be leaving?” And only once he was done filling one pack did PJ answer.  “As soon as we get our shit together here” PJ motions for Dan to start filling a pack.

“WHAT?  Like today or tomorrow?” Dan instantly panicked.  He has never been further than an hour’s walk away from his secret abode.  “I’m thinking tonight, when things quiet down.  We don’t want to risk anyone following us, lest they figure out we’re on the run” PJ warns as he finishes filling up his other pack.  “You should get packing” he starts grabbing things to hand to Dan.  Mainly dehydrated meals he managed to find the other day.  Dan detests dehydrated food.  But it’s better than starving, so he started piling in as much as possible, without overloading it with weight. 

“Maybe wrap some shirts around some of them.  Experiment with packing.  We need to go light on everything except food.  We can find clothes along the way if needed.  And don’t forget some of the basic medication.  Here, I found some antibiotics.  I remember reading something about how they’re good for up to two years past expiration.  This one is recent” PJ quickly rattled off in one long breath.

Dan simply stared at his friend as he jammed everything handed him into the sacks.  “Do you think we’ll find him?” Dan asked in a whispered hush, looking around to make sure nobody was near.  PJ paused, carefully weighing their odds in his mind.  “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather take a chance on maybe, than always wonder.  Hmm?” PJ leaned close to Dan with determination.

Dan took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and envisioned reuniting with Phil.  Tears instantly stung the corners of his eyes, and he made his decision.  “You’re right” Dan sniffed, wiping the moisture from his face with a hoodie.  It’s the only thing he made it out of their flat with that belongs to Phil, and he protects it with his life.

“Besides” PJ continues, “Someone mentioned Chris might be near where we’re headed.”  Dan gasped, hoping they’d reunite with Chris.  Three heads are better than one, and if there’s a possibility of Phil being on the other side of the world, he’d rather have a third person along for the ride – just in case.

“Oh, Peej.  I’m so sorry.  Here I am thinking about myself, and you’re missing Chris just as much as I miss Phil” Dan starts blubbering again.  He misses the old days.  A _LOT_.  “S’no worry.  I get it” PJ puts a reassuring hand on Dan again. 

As they finished packing, both boys consumed what food they couldn’t fit in their packs, and dressed in several layers to save on space.

“Where are we going?” Dan casually asked, kicking back to relax a bit before they set out.  After a few moments, PJ carefully worded his answer.  “Look.  Don’t worry so much about the details.  I’ve pretty much squared those away.  But if you must know, we’re headed west.  The less you know – at least for now, just in case – the better.”

At first, Dan felt put off.  He instantly doubted PJ’s trust, and questioned his true intentions – until he caught PJ’s intense stare.  It’s as if he read Dan’s mind, and PJ continued.  “If we get separated, and either of us get caught…” and with that, Dan understood.  “Gotcha” Dan answered flatly, shaking off a shiver. 

“Get some rest.  You need it more than I do.  We’re leaving at 1:15” PJ said, covering Dan with a thin blanket.  And as Dan snoozed, PJ prayed that the weather would be forgiving.  At least until they arrive in Port Talbot, from where they’ll board a small cargo ship into Waterford, where a few of PJ’s friends reside.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll do my best to update with something at least once a week. It'll be a challenge, since I have many other obligations and deadlines at the moment. Please be patient. I promise I won't leave this hanging.


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